


Shuttle Bugs

by qvcrossb (handschuhmaus)



Category: King of the Hill
Genre: Bill Dauterive is lonely, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Lace, May not be canon compliant, fluff and light mystery/suspense, sort of episode style but the narration is a little too omniscient for KotH
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 08:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21316942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handschuhmaus/pseuds/qvcrossb
Summary: Peggy, Luanne, and Bill help Bobby tackle an unusual school project. Hank deals with a difficult client, and Dale becomes suspicious of his friends and neighbors.
Relationships: Peggy Hill & Bobby Hill & Luanne Platter, slight Bill Dauterive/Peggy Hill
Kudos: 2





	Shuttle Bugs

"Oh, Aunt Peggy, do you think we'll ever figure this out?" Bill probably shouldn't be eavesdropping on the Hills, or watching them, but it was hard not to be curious about what Peggy, Luanne, and Bobby were up to. All he'd gathered so far was that it was something to do with a school project of Bobby's. Luanne sounded interested but a little cautious.

Bobby leaped out of the car, with a Jill-More bag that must have something colorful in it, with bits of red and green and blue showing through the white plastic. "Mom, since it sounds like tattooing, does that make it cool by association?"

"Goodness, Bobby," Peggy said as she locked the car and got her house key in hand. "I don't know everything people think is cool these days. But sure, since your Great Aunt Maggie used to do this and you want to do better than Benny Sheppard, I'm sure we can figure this out."

Bill didn't get to hear anymore--the three of them went into the house. He scratched his belly thoughtfully and stared at the Hills' door. A scheme, to get in and spend some time with Peggy but also with the kids, was building in his head...

* * *

"Hello, ma'am, I'm calling from Strickland Propane and Propane Access--" Hank found his greeting cut off by a deafening bark, and he had to glance around his own office before he was satisfied the dog wasn't in the same room with him. Damn thing musta knocked the phone off its cradle. He was expecting a difficult call--Margie Ann Ballantine had a reputation as a stipulating customer, but not for having her phone answered by a dog.

"Hello?" Hank tried, perfunctorily. He'd have to try calling back if she didn't answer, and as long as the dog had the phone off the cradle, her number was almost guaranteed to give him a busy signal. 

Would this be worth paying a personal call? She was a pretty good customer. But what would merit actually going out when you hadn't been able to contact the client first to actually make a delivery or assessment of needs?

* * *

Bill Dauterive found some chips and salsa he'd bought a couple weeks ago when he thought there was a football game and there actually wasn't. Somehow he'd refrained from eating them, and the best by date of the tortilla chips was approaching soon. All the better. He also had a cheap but festive plastic platter with dividers for the chips and a dip in the middle, bought for the rare occasion that someone (maybe Boomhauer or Dale Gribble) came over to watch a game.

A snack would always be appreciated by a growing boy, wouldn't it? And he thought Peggy liked chips and salsa. Hopefully Luanne did too. He nervously crunched a broken chip as he carried the loaded platter over to Hank and Peggy's door. Then he rang the doorbell.


End file.
